Drunk on You
by Pink Apples
Summary: Alcohol is the drug of choice for the gifted, the insane, and the hopelessly, desperately, stupidly in love. Axel x Roxas.
1. Infection

**Disclaimer:** If I owned this series the condom industry would probably be booming.

**Drunk on You**

_Infection_

* * *

When Axel thought back to his childhood, he liked to reflect upon cartoons, fad toys, and various pairs of themed tennis shoes adorned with super heroes sporting a "-man" at the end of their name. Of course, this is what most people like to think about, isn't it? A favorite Care Bear doll, hours spent watching Barney, and "digging a hole to China" expeditions in sandboxes at school and home are pleasant and sometimes foolish memories. Everyone has them, even Axel.

Roxas was a different story.

Axel had already left sandboxes and stuffed dolls behind when he and Roxas had first crossed paths. Roxas, a stubborn fourth grader far too small to his age, considered himself with typical nine-year-old arrogance as "nearly a teenager" or "nearly an adult" therefore entitling himself to "adult" activities. He couldn't help but smile upon seeing the horror-stricken looks on the faces of his classmates when he let a "shit" or a "damn" slip into his speech.

For this reason Axel had been particularly intrigued upon meeting the boy. He had been sitting on the reckless school bus, his head leaning against the window, when the seat had moved a bit. Scowling, the fifteen-year-old looked up to glare at the shrimp next to him. Most of the elementary school kids had more sense than to sit this far back in the bus, especially next to a kid like Axel. His eyes were rimmed in black eyeliner and he drew a new shape beneath them each day with a sharpie marker. His nails were painted black, his hair dyed an oily black at the time that made his ivory skin look even lighter. His eyebrows were two angry red lines above his acid green eyes.

A kindergarten girl had once been sentenced to sitting by him after throwing food in the bus driver's hair. Axel had offered her a watery smile and she had promptly burst into tears. And while this kid was certainly no kindergarten girl, his large blue eyes and gentle face suggested innocence and naïveté. The boy had merely given Axel a surprised look in return, quirking a little eyebrow. It was a look Axel got frequently from his sisters - a "what's your problem?" look.

In his bitterness, Axel kicked the blond's backpack, sending it flying into the aisle. A far more decent high-schooler picked it up and slid it back over to the boy, who muttered his thanks before turning back to glare at Axel who had commenced staring out the window.

"That was uncalled for and rude." His voice was high, a prepubescent lisp dancing upon his tongue with each word. The firmness and over all pissiness was still there.

"I suppose you're gonna ask me to apologize, now," Axel grumbled.

"Hell no." Showing off his cussing skills, no doubt. Axel had to smile at that.

"Wow, those are some dirty words for such a pretty little boy. Sure you're not a fucking girl?" Axel had expected horror or embarrassment upon dropping the F-bomb, but the child just poked his bottom lip out haughtily.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No, just my brother," Axel said coldly. He had been harboring a kind of grudge against Reno after he had decided to move out of their shitty house and into his girlfriend's trailer. Axel was just waiting for the day when the American tragedy would come crashing down and the girl would get pregnant, Reno would get hooked on some drug or another, and they would end up moving into the house Axel currently shared with his mother and screw everything up.

"That's kinda gross. I would never kiss my brother," Roxas replied, face contorting in disgust. Axel bristled, immediately taking umbrage to the blond's statement.

"Whatever, kid. Is he ugly?" Axel growled.

"I dunno. I guess not, he has a girlfriend and a son." The blond was beginning to ramble, a habit kids often had. Not that Roxas was like normal kids - Axel could already tell there must have been something different about him. Maybe an abusive home life? "He' twenty. His hair is spiky like yours and he lives with me."

"And your parents?"

Roxas gave a little shrug. Axel noticed his eyes closed when he did this, his abnormally long, black lashes standing out against his skin. He really did look girlish.

"They're not around," the boy answered cryptically.

"What's your name?" Axel asked abruptly. The bus had just pulled up to the elementary school and a group of small bodies at the front of the bus were scrambling for their backpacks and lunchboxes, clambering for the door. The blond stood and slung his backpack over his narrow shoulder, turning to look at Axel with a boyish smile.

"I'm Roxas," he said. He was about to continue down the aisle when Axel grabbed his hand suddenly, unclipping a Sharpie from one of the chains on his pants and scribbling his name down into the palm of the boy's hand.

Roxas clutched his hand into a fist when Axel was done, holding it to his chest as he made his way to the front of the bus.

* * *

The day had been absolute hell, as usual. Axel had passed another test, but barely, and one of his teachers had requested a parent conference. Someone had made a crack about his eye makeup, as usual, and his belt broke in third period. He had skipped lunch to go smoke weed in the bathroom and was almost caught by the assistant principal until he flushed the perfectly good fag down the toilet and spent the rest of the lunch period scrawling obscene words on the bathroom walls.

He was the first person on the bus that afternoon, slamming his backpack under his seat and propping his head against the window to glare down at all the other students. After a few moments he uncapped his trusty sharpie and scrawled a few of his most philosophical thoughts about life at the time:

_FucK hAte make tHem SCReAM_

Satisfied with his artwork, Axel crossed his arms over his chest and commenced staring out the window for the next fifteen minutes, not even looking up when the bus pulled in front of the elementary school and a dozen giggling little girls and obnoxious boys clambering up the steps with backpacks full of crayons and coloring books.

The seat squeaked.

Axel turned his head, surprised to see the blond boy from earlier sitting there. He had pretty much forgotten about the kid during the day.

Roxas didn't say anything; he was studying what was written on the seat in front of him.

"You wrote this, didn't you?" he asked finally. At that instant the bus roared to life and chaos broke out around the two - shouting, paper airplanes flying through the air, and high-pitched, obnoxious laughing drilling itself into their heads.

Axel picked at his fingernail polish.

"That's not nice, you know. I mean, there's nothing wrong with the words - they're just words after all - but this seat is leather. It was a cow once, you know. And it's not nice to write on anything that can have sex. That's what my mom told me - if it can hump or be humped, don't write on it. It's because I colored my brother's dog pink with a marker once and we couldn't wash it out."

Axel stared at this little boy in disbelief. He was kicking his feet and staring at his scraped knees as he talked, not looking at Axel.

Roxas hadn't had scraped knees this morning.

Neglecting the conversation - Axel didn't want to explain that the sea covers were made from plastic, not cows - he pointed at the still-bleeding knees.

"Are you okay, kid?"

Roxas looked up; his eyes were bright.

"Yeah! I just fell. Cut it open on the side of the sandbox."

"Why didn't you go to the nurse, you retard? That could get infected!" Axel poked the wound and Roxas slapped his hand away, making a noise in his throat.

"It'll be fine!"

"Do you have Neosporin at your house or anything?"

Roxas shrugged. "Dunno."

"You know where your medicine cabinet is?"

"Can't reach it." Roxas kicked his legs some more; Axel noticed some of the blood had dripped down his leg and was soaking into his pure white socks.

"Is your brother, parent, whatever at home?" Axel wasn't even registering what he was saying - on a regular basis he would be disgusted with himself for acting like some kind of concerned mother or something. Next thing he knew, he would be-

"You live in my neighborhood, right? Get off with me at my stop. I'll fix you up at my house," Axel said briskly, looking away from Roxas quickly after saying this. He was still badass and bitter, after all. No blond-haired blue-eyed fourth grader could change that.

"Define 'fix up' for me," Roxas asked.

"Just... put some alcohol on it and slap on a band-aid."

Roxas seemed hesitant but agreed anyway. Obviously he hadn't been paying attention during the "don't talk to strangers" lesson and therefore had missed the "don't talk to strangers especially if they have fake piercings and chains and write bad words" point. Ten minutes later he was standing in Axel's small kitchen, examining the gaudy teapot collection on a dusty shelf.

Axel, meanwhile, was searching frantically for anything that could serve as a disinfectant. Hydrogen peroxide? The bottle was empty. Neosporin? Nowhere to be found. Bleach? Ah hell, he didn't want to kill the kid!

After uncovering an empty rubbing alcohol bottle, Axel was struck with an idea. He grabbed Roxas by the waist and hoisted the lightweight boy on the countertop where he sat obediently, awaiting his treatment.

Axel opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of his favorite scotch - scotch he was careful not to indulge in too often. Didn't want to raise suspicions around the household.

He wet a paper towel and poured the alcohol on it before approaching the cheerful little boy still seated on the counter.

"We talked about the Constitution today," Roxas said, swinging his legs as usual. "Our teacher says if we memorize the Preamble we can get extra credit on the next test. Can _you_ recite the P- AHHH! OH MY- CRAPCRAPCRAP! DAMN! ASS! CRAPCRAP OH MY GOD THAT HURTS!"

Upon seeing the boy scream in pain, Axel absolutely panicked. Apparently hard alcohol was not the same as rubbing alcohol.

Tossing the wet paper towel away, Axel grabbed the bottle and grabbed some of his hair roughly, pulling his head back and pouring a bit of the drink into his mouth. Roxas sputtered, his eyes by now already leaking tears. He glared at Axel.

"Wh-wha-"

"It'll ease the pain, give it time." Axel leaned against the opposite counter and took a swig for himself. Looking sick, Roxas bent over, his hands on his thighs.

"It's not... ugh..."

Axel offered the bottle again. Roxas took it and took another drink, this time the liquid going down the right tube. Still, he grimaced.

"Tastes... kinda nasty..."

"It's an acquired taste," Axel explained, sticking the scotch back in the fridge cheerfully. "Now, we should get you home, shouldn't we?"

Roxas nodded weakly and fell against Axel when the teenager tried to pull him off the counter. Frustrated, Axel let the blond crawl onto his back and stood up, ready to carry the kid piggy-back style until the small hands on his shoulders suddenly disappeared and there was a thud that sounded vaguely like a nine-year-old rump hitting a linoleum floor behind him. Axel was finally reduced the carrying the kid bridal-style, clutching him against his tall, thin body. Roxas muttered something and leaned over, vomiting on the carpet.

Skirting around the mess, Axel trudged outside and began making his way down the street towards Roxas's house. He figured now wasn't a good time to scold the kid about the vomit; his dog had probably licked it all up by now.

"How'd you hurt your knee?" he asked again.

Roxas looked up, a faint smile on his face. His cheeks were red and his eyes were red and a little watery.

"R-riku pushed me down."

"Who?"

"Riku," the tipsy boy repeated, squirming a little in Axel's arms. The teenager took this opportunity to outright drop the kid - if he was sober enough to form coherent sentence, he could certainly walk. Even if it meant Axel had to hold his hand like some elementary school reject.

"And why did Riku do that?"

Axel was so unprepared for the answer that he sputtered a bit when Roxas told him.

"I was flirting with his boyfriend."

"...Oh."

Once Axel had dropped Roxas off and had arrived back home, he pulled the scotch back out of the fridge and took a refreshing sip. The pile of vomit had begun to dry. Wrinkling his nose, Axel took another long swig of the drink and reached for a paper towel.


	2. Razor

A/N: I don't own any of this. I am a slave to Disney, a slave to Square Enix, and a slave to my body's estrogen-producing glands.

**Drunk on You**

_Razor_

* * *

For his eighteenth birthday Axel received nothing from his parents. His mother had baked him a small cheesecake and his father had promptly assisted him in voting registration. Then, as always, his parents had left to go to work and then afterwards an after-work meeting or event or weekend getaway. It was as if they were purposely trying to distance themselves from their son, now more than ever.

Reno hadn't sent him a present, or even a card. Axel had kept his cell phone tucked away snugly in his back pocket, turned on the loudest volume, and had even skipped school in case his brother decided to drop by his house for a visit.

It didn't help that the teenager had a cold. He woke up at nine 'o clock, checked his phone, and cast a brave glance in the mirror. His eyes had bags under them and his black hair was long and unruly, the red roots already beginning to show. His face was pale, the tattoos he finally had inked on his cheeks a year before standing out like black bugs that had decided to make Axel's face their resting place for the day.

At around twelve 'o clock, after a productive morning of watching Looney Toons on television, Axel finally reached into his back pocket for his phone and opened up a blank text message screen.

_U in math?_

The reply came back within a minute – Roxas had one of those new phones with the keypad, after all. Axel had asked for a new phone for his birthday, but alas, his cruel old parents had neglected him once again. The teenager considered himself a regular Little Orphan Annie, really, hard knock life and all.

_Yeah. Happy bday, btw._

Axel fought back a smile. The kid had remembered. But of course he would, just like the past two birthdays. For his sixteenth the blond had drawn him a crude picture of a muscular man on a motorcycle, black hair pulled under a red bandana. A skull had been scribbled on his bared chest and a wall-eyed girl in a bikini was perched on the rear tire. That hadn't come near the present Axel had received for his seventeenth birthday, however. That year Roxas had been grounded for lying about grades to is older brother and had no allowance to spend and no desire to come up with crude drawings like childish ten-year-olds. So instead Axel had taken them both out to dinner at a small seafood shack, where Roxas had volunteered to stand up on a table, his little legs shaking, and sing an off-key version of "Happy Birthday" to a half-amused, half-touched Axel.

_Thnx. U skippin?_

Although Axel usually discouraged his younger friend from missing school, today would be different. He was itching with anticipation as to what Roxas had in store for him for his birthday this year, and had even set aside a few dollars in case a trip to the seafood shack was necessary.

_If u pick me up._

Axel was already groping for his car keys as he texted back.

_Be at the gym ent._

The middle school was a short drive and within minutes Axel's Honda Civic was parked discreetly between two SUVs in the teacher's parking. Classes had luckily just gotten out, and it was easy for Roxas to sneak his way outside, at first headed for the picnic tables where the other seventh graders had congregated for lunch before turning around once he was far enough away from the school to not be caught by the video cameras, his eyes set on Axel's car.

The boy slid into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt, turning to grin at his much older friend.

"Happy birthday, you old man."

"Thanks," Axel said with a roll of his eyes, pulling the car out of the middle school parking lot. Roxas spoke softly about school and seventh grade drama as they approached the neighborhood, telling little secrets about his quiet girlfriend and how she had kissed him last week, or the physical education teacher with one eye. Axel listened quietly but intently, occasionally muttering a few pieces of advice or reacting to the strange things that seemed to happen at the kid's school. Axel was nearly done with his senior year himself and could hardly remember seventh grade, except that it was when he had been introduced to pot – a habit he had kicked since his junior year – and had grown six inches, rotating through a variety of jean sizes to his mother's frustration.

"Hang on. Can we stop by my house real quick? I need to get something," Roxas asked as they entered the neighborhood. Feeling curious and slightly excited, Axel pulled the car to a stop in front of the blond's house, which he disappeared inside of for only a moment or two before running back out, clutching a large paper bag in one hand. He carefully placed the bag in the backseat and climbed back into the car, looking satisfied with himself.

"Is that my present?" Axel asked with a sly quirk of his eyebrow.

"Yep!" Roxas answered, without any hesitation. He kicked his legs in the seat, smiling to himself.

Axel didn't question him further and instead pulled up to his own modest house at the end of street. Roxas grabbed his bag and tumbled out of the car, jogging towards Axel's front door excitedly. The redhead locked his car and followed the blond inside, hands in his pocket, his gait casual and slow. The last thing the eighteen-year-old wanted to do was betray his excitement.

* * *

"Best birthday present ever," Axel panted, his head lolling backwards. His eyes slipped closed and the bottle of whiskey slipped from his hand, crashing on the floor. He licked his lips, glancing over at Roxas.

"You sure you wanna do this though, kid?"

"Positive." Roxas threw a leg over Axel and settled pleasantly on his lap, little legs dangling over the floor. Axel was seated in an armless, uncomfortable kitchen chair, and Roxas had to shift around a bit before becoming comfortable. He made sure the device in his hand was plugged in before turning to the drunk redhead under him.

"Hurry up," Axel muttered, giving Roxas an annoyed look. The twelve-year-old stuck out his tongue and turned the electric razor on, leaning in for the kill - the kill being Axel's head of thick, dyed black hair.


	3. Humerus Tragedy

**A/N:** Should I have a disclaimer for every chapter? It seems painfully redundant. But yeah, I don't own. Boohoo.

**Drunk on You**

_Humerus Tragedy_

* * *

Roxas touched his arm. He touched his chest, his calf, his thigh. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to memorize each muscle, each tension, each movement.

Literally.

"Sarratorius anterior," Axel drawled, rubbing his eyes. Roxas slid a hand under his arm, just below his armpit. "Here."

"Origin?"

"Uh… ribs."

A yawn. "Insertion?"

"Damn, um, humerus I think?"

"Wrong." Axel yawned a third time, setting the note cards down on the boy's bedside table. "Look, I already _had_ tenth grade biology. I shouldn't have to relive it."

Roxas frowned, fixing Axel with an icy glare. "You promised."

"I know, I know," Axel sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and sat up, the bed squeaking. "Does Cloud know I'm here?" he questioned, popping his back.

Roxas shook his head. "No, so he won't bother us. Now come on, we haven't even gotten to the leg muscles!" He was sitting Indian style on the bed beside Axel, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

"One break."

"_No_."

"Stop being a bitch!" the twenty-one year old growled, tossing a pillow at Roxas's face. The blond caught it and threw it back angrily.

"You already had a break twenty minutes ago, lazyass. Don't you want me to get a good grade on this test?!"

Axel pursed his lips, his thin red eyebrows furrowing together in frustration. "Why didn't you get your brother to do this when he was still home?"

"Because Cloud's worthless," Roxas mumbled, his lower lip sticking out in a dangerous pout. It never ceased to amaze the redhead how his young friend could be fifteen years old and still have the face of one at least six years younger, right down to his boyish facial expressions. His eyes, a glass of cool water on a hot summer day, narrowed at Axel.

"Fine. But make this break worth it."  


Axel grinned, showing his white teeth. "Why not take a break yourself? I heard studying too hard can make you forget all that you've learned."

Roxas frowned. "I've never heard that before."

Axel stood and stretched. "You just sit tight. I'll bring something up for us both."

Roxas went back to staring intently at his flashcards and textbook, trying to engrave the muscle chart into his memory. He repeated the Latin names under his breath a few times, so concentrated that he didn't even notice that his best friend had reentered the room until the bed suddenly shifted. Startled, Roxas jumped, flashcards flying through the air like a flock of escaping birds.

"Don't _do_ that!" he hissed, whacking Axel on the head with a pillow. Axel just laughed, taking a swig of the beer in his hand. He pressed another ice-cold bottle against Roxas's chest until the blond snatched it away, angrily popping the lid off.

"I don't think alcohol is going to help me study," he said bluntly, but took a drink anyway.  
Axel shrugged, leaning against the headboard. "Nah, but it tastes good, doesn't it?"

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking their beer contently, until Axel finally ran dry. He briskly took Roxas's almost-empty bottle and slipped out the door, returning with four more beers.

Feeling a great deal more relaxed, the two chatted comfortably for the next half hour or so, Axel always returning to the kitchen when one of them ran out of alcohol. It wasn't long before they were both slurring their words and touching one another boldly.

Somehow Roxas ended up leaning against the headboard, Axel's loose lips pressed against the side of his neck.

"Ah… name it, kid."

Roxas furrowed his brows, struggling to remember.

"S-sterno… sternocleido… sternocleidomastoid...!"

"This." Wet lips on his naked shoulder, pulling the collar of his shirt back.

"Uhhh… deltoid."

"Ah… this?" A light kiss on the back of his arm.

"Uh, oh shit, ummmm… er, triceps… triceps b-brachii?"

Axel didn't have to ask again, now only having to press his lips lightly against the body part to get Roxas to struggle to name it.

"Pec… pectoralis… major…" Axel rewarded Roxas by pinching a nipple through his shirt. "Ah, abdominus… rectus…"

Axel moved down again, the alcohol still clouding his judgment. He was nestled between Roxas's legs 

now, drunk on about a dozen beers, his blond friend perhaps drunk on more. Roxas's face was flushed, his lips and eyes shiny and wet and for some reason terribly _inviting_…

Axel pushed one of the legs of the boy's shorts up, revealing a slender, cream-colored thigh. A kiss – a bold one, this time – right on the inside of that thigh, a forbidden gesture Axel normally never would have indulged in. An action not necessarily inspired by the alcohol, but rather, fueled by it. A Fruedian – or perhaps the better word would be Corona – slip.

Roxas froze. The muscles in his thighs tensed – but what muscles, exactly? Axel had to know, Roxas had to tell him, it had to be said, the anticipation drove Axel _crazy_-

"A… abductor… l-longus…" the blond whispered, his soft words ringing as loud as bells in Axel's head. He lifted his head and leaned forward, his eyes closing.

Roxas had to want this. He wasn't a fifteen year old boy, he didn't have a test tomorrow, he wasn't Axel's best friend… all that might as well have been true at that very moment when Axel forgot who he was.

A finger pressed against his lips lightly, a brick wall in the way of his speeding car. Axel's eyes flew open.

"I… don't know that one," Roxas said, his words fighting their way through Axel's ears and into his hazy brain. The words registered after a moment, as much as he didn't want to believe them.

Slowly, the redhead rolled off of his best friend. The atmosphere of Roxas's small, dim bedroom had suddenly become and warm and stuffy, a thick syrup of awkwardness permeating through the air. Axel cleared his throat.

"It's… g-getting late," he slurred. "Should… get home… yeah." Axel ran a hand through his spiky red hair, hair that had already grown quite considerably since the haircut incident three years back. When Roxas didn't reply, the young man cracked his back. "Fuck, my trapezius…"

Roxas looked up at him, his eyes wide and pleading for mercy as if Axel had a knife to his throat. _Please leave me alone, just go away…_  
Axel mumbled a good-bye and slipped out Roxas's bedroom door, his eyes downcast.

That next afternoon, his head pounding from hangover, Roxas turned in his blank answer sheet at the end of the biology period and retreated to the bathroom before anyone could see the tears of disappointment leaking out of his eyes.


	4. Ornament

**Ornament**

It happened at a Christmas party.

"His brother works for me," Larxene cooed, snaking one slender, white-gloved arm around Roxas's slim shoulders. "Roxas will be interning for the company next year once he's seventeen." She took a dainty sip of her wine, using the other arm to pull the boy closer to her.

Roxas, in his crisp white shirt that Axel knew his brother had ironed and the slightly worn dark suit Axel knew had not been originally bought by him, fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I didn't know the two of you knew each other. Childhood friends?" A small smile played at the edge of Larxene's small lips. Knowing.

"Something like that," Axel muttered. He was dressed in a shirt as white and crisp as the blond boy's, his black slacks hiding the wine stains from earlier. Stains that had been the result of Axel's mint crystal-green eyes catching sight of that honey-smeared hair and the desert prince skin, making him lose control of the wine glass he might have been holding.

"How quaint," Larxene purred, her voice oozing with amusement at the discomfort in the air. If there was ever a witch that took pleasure in awkwardness such as this, it was Larxene. "I should leave you to catch up. Besides, Zexion probably needs me. I promised I'd help him prepare the hors d'oeuvres." With a sly smile Larxene slipped away, as elegant and evil as the trickiest of cats.

Axel's eyes locked directly onto the blue depths before him that refused to meet his gaze. His body tensed, and he could see Roxas shifting uncomfortably before him. Axel noticed a wine stain near the bottom of his white shirt – so the kid had been drinking a little as well.

"I didn't think it was a big deal," Axel muttered. Roxas looked up, finally meeting his gaze. His expression was curious. "I meant about that night."

"I failed the test," Roxas said flatly. Axel felt a stab of annoyance at the blatant failure.

"You didn't even try."

"I was hungover."

Roxas started to take a few steps back and Axel took a few steps forward in retaliation.

"You didn't speak to me for a year." Another step forward. Roxas was backed up against the immaculate Christmas tree behind him.

Larxene had really gone all out with the tree this year. It was real, and smelled of fresh pine, ornamented in red and gold. The star on the top barely scraped the high ceiling of the huge room, the delicate red ornaments twisted into interesting shapes. The dull light in the room made the tree seem even more beautiful, and in the center of this red and gold was an awkward sixteen year old bathed in red and gold, an ornament outshining even the glittering star that graced the top of the tree. His blue eyes reflected the light, two windows looking out at the summer sky in the midst of the magic in a dark December night.

Axel took a breath, icy with winter when it entered his lungs, hot with youth and heat and passion when it left his lips. Roxas felt this breath, his eyes narrowing.

"What you did was wrong. It was weird."

"I was drunk."

"You're drunk right now." Roxas's glare was accusatory. Axel's breath may have been warm, but it was also scented with the distinct taste of wine.

"You've had some too," Axel smiled, the gold light reflecting off his straight, white teeth. "Does Cloud know you had some?"

"Flipped his lid when he saw me," Roxas muttered, rolling his eyes. "He can be so overprotective. He'd probably kill me if he saw you here, too."

Axel blinked, surprised. "You… told him? About what happened?"

Roxas didn't answer.

Gritting his teeth, Axel grabbed the boy's shoulders. "Why the hell did you tell him? Jesus, I'm lucky I'm fucking alive—"

"No, Axel, shut up!" Roxas growled. People around then had been stealing glances, piecing together bits of the conversation. Among them was Larxene, lingering in the corner with Marluxia and pretending to sound concerned about his monologue regarding the abuse of fir trees when using them as Christmas decorations. "Look, do we have to talk about this h—"

Axel grabbed Roxas and dragged him behind the tree, where the two had about a foot of room between the wall and the tree. The golden light dumped itself on their bodies from the tips of their thick hair to their formal black shoes.

"You didn't have to ignore me. I _called_ you."

"Yeah, and my voicemail was overflowing for days," Roxas muttered. Even with such a sour expression on his face, the warm light gave him soft, almost ethereal quality. Unlike their last meeting, Axel didn't want to kiss and mar this skin with sweat and sin. He wanted to protect it.

"Why was it such a big fucking deal, Roxas?" Axel growled. "I mean, I'm sorry if I freaked you out, but Jesus, don't you think pretending I didn't exist for an entire year is a bit harsh?"

"Axel, you don't understand—"

"It doesn't make you _gay_ to kiss another dude, Rox. We were drunk anyway and I didn't mean it, you know I would never purposely try to freak you out like that—"

Axel never saw it coming.

Part of the reason was that Roxas's hand had been hidden in the tree, closing discreetly around one of those softly glowing baubles. A red one, actually. It matched Axel's hair perfectly as Roxas smashed it against the side of his head with a shrill _crunch_, little pieces falling on to Axel's fine suit. The inside of 

the ornament had been gold-colored, reflecting off of the dark suit like dying stars in an endlessly black sky. He stared in disbelief at Roxas.

"Listen. To me." Roxas punctuated each word, his teeth gritted together. Wisely, Axel shut up. "Axel, I don't want you to interrupt me for the next minute. Understand?" Axel nodded, his eyes watching as Roxas's hand drifted towards the tree again, just in case.

The boy took a deep breath.

"Axel, the day after the 'incident' I sat down with Cloud and told him what happened. I told him I liked it. He was, er, really mad. At you. I made him promise not to press charges or anything if I agreed to stop communicating with you. And, well… I kept my promise."

Axel stared. He had to wonder how hard Roxas had hit him on the head with that bauble, unless it was just the alcohol.

"You… you liked it," Axel repeated finally.

Roxas nodded, and to prove this, he leaned forward on his tiptoes and closed his eyes. Axel's first thought was to look around stupidly, unsure if this was just a trick or some kind of mistletoe prank gone wrong. But when he felt two hands around his neck, pulling him closer, Axel had to face the facts – that the last year had been one big lie in this stupid kid's life and Axel had been worried damn near _sick_ only to find out the kid had a fucking _crush_ on him.

Whether or not Axel could emotionally take the realization was yet to be decided. His body, however, abruptly rejected the blunt confession in the form of fine wine forcing its way up his throat and spewing out of his mouth all over the picture-perfect Roxas and his glowing skin and golden hair.


	5. Frosting

**Frosting**

"I didn't mean to."

"Sure."

"Axel, I'm serious."

The redhead turned to face his blond friend, his eyes dark. He took in the pleading look on Roxas's face, willing himself to not be tempted by it.

"Why should I believe you? Goddamn, Roxas, you had his cock down your _throat_-"

"I was _drunk_!" the boy interjected, grabbing Axel's arm.

A few people around them were beginning to stare – the two were at the reception of Cloud's wedding, tucked into what they believed was a dark corner no one would pay attention to. What the two didn't realize was that most wedding-attending middle-class people absolutely lived for any kind of drama. Already the guests were formulating scenarios in their minds – was the boy, Cloud's little brother, a whore? Who was the redhead guy with the messy suit? Does Cloud know about him?

Unfortunately one of the bridesmaids was one of the eavesdroppers, and once Axel mentioned the word 'cock' she scurried off the find Cloud.

"You shouldn't have been drunk around Seifer in the first place, Roxas, you know how he is!" Axel hissed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roxas noticed Cloud approaching. Not only that, but Cloud looked pissed. Roxas did the first thing that came to his mind- he grabbed Axel and pulled them both towards the door labeled 'Exit'.

"Roxas, what the hell-"

"Code Red, buddy," Roxas grumbled, glancing over his shoulder for a peek. 

Cloud's speed was increasing, and there was fire in his eyes. Roxas idly wondered if Cloud was slightly drunk. "We can discuss my fuck-ups later," the boy continued, turning around just in time to fall directly into his brother's wedding cake.

Axel started laughing hysterically while most of the guests stared in horror, a few dropping their champagne glasses. Cloud was suddenly swarmed with people apologizing and asking what he was going to do, saying they knew of a place down the road that can fix up wedding cakes in a jiffy-

By the time Cloud managed to get away from the concerned guests, Roxas and Axel were already flying down the highway in a red Mustang, arguing over the size of Seifer's cock in comparison to Axel's.

* * *

**A/N: **This will be my last fanfic for a little while. I really need a break because fanfiction has become a chore for me and I've hated everything I've written lately. Sorry for being so blegh.


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